


Grammar Lessons

by emmaliza



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, FaceFucking, In which Marius has some issues with his own kinks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The word <i>submissive</i> frightens Marius. Well, no, that's not quite true: he's perfectly fine with the adjective. It's only once the word becomes a noun does it get intimidating."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grammar Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the kink meme prompt: "Courfeyrac/Marius, Sub!Marius getting some really abusive dirty talk that makes him feel kind of bad, but kind of good, and he isn't quite sure how to process it."

The word _submissive_ frightens Marius. Well, no, that's not quite true: he's perfectly fine with the adjective. He's a little younger and a lot more inexperienced than Courfeyrac; it's only natural he'd be the more submissive partner, at least to start with. He can accept that. It's only once the word becomes a noun does it get intimidating -- it's easier when he translates it into German, actually, because then he can keep that word very uncapitalised and not have to confront the terrifying nounness. Marius can handle being submissive, but not being _a_ submissive.

Though he's not sure what other sort of person spends their evenings on their knees in the living room, naked, with their hands tied behind their back, nuzzling desperately at their boyfriend's clothed cock.

He gasps as Courfeyrac's hand tugs harshly at his hair, nails digging into his scalp. "You really want it," Courfeyrac says with a slight undertone of wonder, when Marius thinks he really should not be surprised, given he's had Marius struggling to get his mouth around his cock through those ridiculously tight skinny jeans for ages now (minutes? hours? He really doesn't know). "Look at you. Needy little cockslut."

He groans as Courfeyrac roughly twists his head to the side, so its his cheek that presses against Courfeyrac's cock, not his lips. "Please, Courfeyrac," he whispers, but that just makes Courfeyrac yank at his hair in displeasure. _Ow!_

"Rude. Did I say you could talk?" Marius groans and bites his lip, flushing a little in shame. He forgot. "Maybe I should just give it to you. Keep your mouth occupied, at least."

Marius whines, as he's allowed to do that, he thinks. Courfeyrac smirks. "Oh, but you're so cute when you're struggling to obey orders. So desperate to be a good boy. It's adorable."

Bright red and panting, Marius wonders where that famous generosity of Courfeyrac's has gotten to. Courfeyrac's grip on his hair relaxes slightly, and he manages to turn his head forward again. He daren't say anything, but hesitantly licks against the head of Courfeyrac's cock through the denim, over the slight wet patch. He's still horribly embarrassed, but well, that's sort of the point.

"Hmm, did I remember to close the curtains?" Courfeyrac muses, and Marius's eyes go wide. He tries to look, but Courfeyrac keeps his head still. "Uh-uh, not so fast. If you can't remember, that's your own fault, isn't it?" Marius whimpers, but it earns him no mercy. "I wonder, would you like that? Being seen, well, like this, by all sorts of people minding their own business? Having them look up at you and think 'oh, what a slut, can't they at least keep it out of the eyes of the innocent public?' Or simply see your pretty little mouth and want to claim it for themselves?"

Marius gasps, jerking in his trousers, burying his face in the crease of Courfeyrac's pelvis to hide his shame. The amount of light in the room makes him realise that no, Courfeyrac didn't really leave the curtains open, but that only helps so much. Courfeyrac's fingers run through his hair almost gently. "So you would," he says. "Oh, I know what I should do. I should dress you up. I do spend so much time making fun of your fashion sense after all. But yes, all lingerie and high heels, and bright red lipstick, just to make you look like trash. And then I'd fuck you against the window, where everyone can see, see sweet virginal Pontmercy begging for it like a whore."

Begging. That's what he's doing right now, though he's not allowed to talk, lips chafing from the coarse fabric he pushes them against. He greedily tries to force Courfeyrac's cock into his mouth, even though he knows it won't work; will only make Courfeyrac laugh at him. He feels humiliated, but isn't that the point? Everything Courfeyrac says makes him want to curl up into a ball of shame on the floor, but it also makes him want to kneel there with his mouth wide open and whine as pathetically as he can until Courfeyrac finally takes pity on him. His prick throbs with arousal and his head throbs with confusion. Maybe it's good he's not allowed to talk.

Speaking of which: "Actually, I think I want to hear you. You beg very prettily, love," he says, twisting his hand in Marius's hair again. Marius gasps like a drowning man breaking the water's surface, and Courfeyrac smirks at him.

"Please-- Mercy--"

"Now now darling, I don't want you getting so narcissistic you're calling out your own name in bed."

Marius whimpers and blushes. "Courfeyrac -- let me--"

" _Let_ you? Oh no no no. You see, here we have a small communication problem." Casually, Courfeyrac begins to twist and fiddle with the button of his jeans, like he's considering opening it, but hasn't made up his mind yet. Marius can't help but stare. "Look at me." Marius raises his eyes back up obediently. "See, this is not you doing anything. No, this is me doing things to you. Tell me what you want me to do and who knows, I might indulge you."

Marius gulps. He knows he can get what he wants, it's really a matter of semantics. "Please, Courfeyrac," he begs, horribly ashamed despite that. "Please, put your cock in my mouth."

Courfeyrac grins. "Good boy. Good slut."

Finally, those overtight jean come undone and Courfeyrac pushes them down around his thighs. There's a wet spot where he strains against his briefs and Marius, forgetting himself a moment, sticks his tongue out to try and lap at it. "Patience, greedy. I assumed you wanted me to fuck your mouth; that's much easier when I can actually get my underwear off."

Marius whines, feeling almost bashful. Courfeyrac's underwear follows his trousers, and Marius finally gets to see his cock, red and wet and curving toward him. Yet, that strong hand in his hair still prevents him from just leaning forward and taking it into his mouth. Courfeyrac, ever the tease, presses the head of it against Marius's lips, smearing his precome over them. Marius wants to sob. He desperately inhales, and against his own will starts trying to curl his lower lip underneath. He just wants to taste. Courfeyrac chuckles at him. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"

Courfeyrac's hand in his hair starts pushing him forward, making his lips part for it, which makes Marius doubt he's supposed to respond. The smell, the taste, the feel suddenly overwhelms him and he whines, straining against his restraints, helplessly thrusting into the air. Courfeyrac does not go easy on him, pushing firmly into Marius's mouth until he can feel it start to press against his gag reflex. He gives a cough that is halfway to a splutter. Courfeyrac stops, still not sheathed entirely, but not wanting to damage Marius -- at least not yet. Very shyly and hesitantly, Marius looks up to meet his eyes. And that wicked grin, he looks away again.

His scalp starts to ache with one more twist of his hair, as Courfeyrac starts pulling his head back and pushing it forward, very slowly. "I must say, you have the perfect lips for this," he says. "The straightest men alive would want to see that pretty mouth wrapped around their cocks. In fact I think I'd like to see you suck off a whole room full of other men, but maybe another time, huh? Oh, sweet little Marius, all pouting and perfect cheekbones. It really is a crime that more people haven't seen you like this."

Marius gasps, cock throbbing against his stomach. The thought of being _shared_ sounds humiliating, and possibly dangerous, yet makes him shiver all over with lust in a way he's not sure he can handle. Courfeyrac would never actually do it, for various reasons including fear for Marius's safety, fear for Marius's self-respect and a slightly jealous nature, but the thought... Marius feels like a disgrace. He feels good. Oh god.

"Oh, do you like that idea?" Why does Courfeyrac always have to notice everything; Marius squeaks as Courfeyrac starts thrusting into his mouth faster, sighing. "What, am I not enough for you darling? Oh, I'm wounded. But I suppose I shouldn't take it so personally; you're just a desperate little whore after all, aching to have more cocks sliding into your mouth, your hole; I can't really blame you for it, since you're only following your nature."

Shame and arousal threaten to overwhelm Marius; he needs to calm himself, somehow. He closes his eyes and sucks hard, focusing on giving pleasure, focusing on being good. Above him Courfeyrac gives a long, slow groan, and tugs on his hair. "Christ, Marius."

Marius almost wants to laugh, since he's probably the one who has the right to be groaning Courfeyrac's name in arousal and disbelief. He'll might have a bald patch by the time this is through. Courfeyrac pulls him forward further, and Marius gags, spluttering and drooling as Courfeyrac's cock slides down his throat. He can't _breathe_. He opens his eyes to look up again at Courfeyrac, who peers down at him with concern. _Is this okay?_ The hand in Marius's hair relaxes, runs through the strands comfortingly. _Do you want me to stop?_

No, Marius doesn't want him to stop. He wants Courfeyrac to do this to him, he wants to be used like -- like a whore. So he inhales deeply through his nose, and as well as he can like this, nods, and smiles. Courfeyrac smiles back, quickly donning his carefree mask. He steps forward, pushing Marius so his lips rest at the base of his cock, indifferent as Marius chokes around him.

"So you like this? Me fucking your throat?" Marius groans as Courfeyrac thrusts quickly into his mouth, both hands in his hair now, pulling him up, pausing when he's buried to the hilt and pulling Marius just the slightest bit further, enough to make a tear slip from his eye. Marius tastes salt and sweat and the come that will spill from Courfeyrac any minute now, and his chest, his whole body heaves with the excess of sensation. He has to lift his head to keep air going into his nose. His throat feels so unnaturally stretched, like might tear apart any second from the abuse it's undergoing. Saliva drips down his chin, because he can't help it; he is long past the point where he can retain any form of dignity. Courfeyrac hesitates as he pulls back, pushing the head of his cock against Marius's cheek to make it bulge obscenely; Marius sobs.

"Greedy, greedy. I just hope I'll be able to satisfy you," Courfeyrac teases as he pulls on Marius's hair again, sets up a rhythm, barely pulling out before thrusting hard down Marius's throat again. It's punishing, and Marius feels his lip split, bruised from Courfeyrac's attention. It hurts, but nowhere near enough to make him want to stop. Courfeyrac's cock throbs inside his mouth and Marius moans, pressing his tongue against it to feel more of the heat, the wetness; his own cock throbs in turn.

Courfeyrac's breathing is fast, heavy; he's going to come soon. He's either going to make Marius swallow it or cover his face with it. Marius whines helplessly at the thought of both possibilities.

With a gasp, Courfeyrac pulls back, leaving Marius's throat spasming around its sudden emptiness. For a second Courfeyrac looks up at the ceiling, trying to get control of himself. Then he takes his cock in hand and holds it to Marius's lips again. "Lick."

Marius does so instantly, only a second later thinking of how degrading that is, how bestial. But he doesn't stop. Courfeyrac moans, stroking his shaft feverishly. "My apologies, darling -- I don't think I can give you anymore--"

A gasp and then Marius whines as Courfeyrac's come spills onto his tongue, hot and heavy, and he licks faster to try and clean it all up. Courfeyrac sighs and whimpers above him, hands in his hair now stroking softly, urging Marius on but not pushing him to anything. Come drips down Marius's chin and Courfeyrac follows it, pressing the head of his cock to the corner of Marius's mouth; Marius tilts his head up and bares his neck so it can slide down there too. He gulps, the taste of come flooding his mouth. He still feels good, and Courfeyrac's still heated gaze sends a rush of blood to his cock.

Only then does Marius realise how desperate he is to come.

But once he realises, christ, he's shaking all over, tugging futilely against his restraints, thrusting his hips into the air, moaning like a bitch in heat. Courfeyrac cocks his head to the side, amused. "You alright down there?" he asks. Marius whines, uncertain whether the prohibition on talking stands again, but unwilling to risk it. Courfeyrac sighs and slides down onto his knees, and presses his thumb to the head of Marius's dripping cock. "Oh, poor baby. You just like sucking cock so much, and now you're all desperate. Oh, what are we going to do with you?"

That one fleeting touch withdraws, and Marius starts sobbing again, completely unable to help himself. "Courfeyrac, please," he begs, Courfeyrac tracing patterns over his pale thighs. "Please Courfeyrac! Please, please, please! Do what you want to me, I don't care, I'll be yours, your slave, your whore, anything, forever, I'll do anything, just, just let me come, oh god, please!"

He's babbling, weeping, and Courfeyrac laughs. "Anything? I see. Well, didn't I tell you not to talk?"

Marius sobs once more and bites down on his lip. He squirms, knees starting to burn against the uncomfortable carpet. _Please Courfeyrac._

Courfeyrac seems to ponder his situation (how he can be so composed two minutes after coming, Marius will never know). "You know, I always did wonder if I could make you come just from being fucked. In your mouth, your ass, whatever. Just an idle curiosity."

Marius inhales deeply, desperately trying to regain some self-control. He looks at Courfeyrac once more and Courfeyrac grins. "Oh, nevermind. I won't be cruel."

A hand fixes tight around Marius's cock, stroking him firmly, efficiently, and he gasps and whines and writhes at the contact. "Oh god, Courfeyrac, oh god, I--" He bites down on his lip again with a whimper, hanging his head, bucking helplessly into Courfeyrac's palm. His orgasm is explosive, practically making him scream, come splashing violently across his thighs. Courfeyrac doesn't stop, wringing it from him as Marius thrusts into his hand, tears falling from his eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure, gasping.

Finally he finishes and Courfeyrac withdraws, wiping his hand on Marius's thigh. And then he starts shaking again. "Hey, hey, easy," says Courfeyrac, pulling Marius into an embrace, where he buries his head in Courfeyrac's shoulder. He just feels so overwhelmed. Courfeyrac undoes the cuffs as Marius sobs against his neck. "It's okay, you're okay. Everything's going to be okay. You were fine, you were beautiful. It's alright darling, it's alright."

Once his hands are free Marius wraps his arms around Courfeyrac's shoulders, clinging to regain his stability. He sniffs. "Sorry," he mutters. "I didn't mean to... fall apart like that."

"Shh, shh, don't worry about it." Courfeyrac then pulls back, cups his chin hurtly. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you? Did something I say... was it too much?"

"Uh -- no. I mean, it was a little... intense, but, um, I think I liked it? I would have stopped you if I'd needed to."

Courfeyrac smiles. "I thought as much. Well, dear, this carpet is really uncomfortable. Couch? I don't think you'll be making it to the bed."

"Probably not, no."

Courfeyrac helps him up and they stagger over until they collapse, Marius resting against Courfeyrac's chest. "You know," he says, "I'm still naked and you're... not."

"Can you really be bothered figuring out where your clothes have gotten to?"

"...No."

"Very well then."

Marius makes a little 'hmph' noise, but decides it's not worth it. What he's just been through was exhausting, and Courfeyrac gently stroking his arm and kissing his hair as they cuddle is more tempting than you would think. Marius settles in to rest next to his dom, and kind of forgets to be terrified.


End file.
